


It's Good To Be The King

by L8Bleumr



Category: Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-06
Updated: 2011-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 08:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L8Bleumr/pseuds/L8Bleumr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil is up to his old tricks again in this naughty little short story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

It had been a long battle this time and Thranduil was never so glad to be back at the palace. As much as he would like to go to his chambers and forget about being a King, he could not. There was much to do, parchments to be signed and such. Tonight there was to be a celebration for the returning warriors, one that Thranduil was expected to attend. The one thing that he would not compromise however was a visit from Lebeth, his favorite lady of the court. She knew how to soothe his tired muscles, cure his scratches and bruises and then make him forget about being a king. Not only was being at the borders hard on the body, but hard on the libido as well. He really wanted to sink into a comfortable hot bath, but even more to sink into a warm and willing elleth. Long had it been since he felt the soft flesh of a female beneath him.

That evening at the celebration, Thranduil was scanning the filled ballroom looking for his favorite companion. He wondered why he had not seen her yet. Lebeth was never too far from his sight during these royal galas, yet she had been absent all night. He was not pleased. His yearnings needed tending to and there was no other better for the job.

Just as his temper was about to rise, someone caught his eye. Across the room, there was a beauty he had not yet seen. Tall and slender, golden hair flowing down her back, ample bosom and shapely hips, this elleth stood out amongst the others. She was very fine indeed and Thranduil felt himself calm a bit as he observed her. She was talking with a group of ellyn, smiling and laughing as they each tried to woo her away. The King noticed that she did not budge nor did she look upon any of them with favor. She raised her wine glass to her mouth and Thranduil studied how her pink lips ever so lightly touched the glass. Ai, but she was a fine specimen and he wanted to know her better. Again, his eyes scanned her body as he imagined her out of that dark green gown, lying naked in his bed. He felt a twitch in his loins and it reminded him that he had yet to set up a visitor for later. Maybe this one would be his companion for the evening since Lebeth was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Alya was enjoying herself at the celebration tonight. This was her first invitation to such an affair. Tonight was reserved for only those returning from the borders and their families. Only a select few that did not fit into this category were invited. Alya was asked to come because in just a couple days, she was beginning her new job as messenger to the court. Up until now, she had only run messages back and forth from the kitchen to the staff. She hoped to meet and speak with some of the nobles she would be working for in the near future. However, what she really wanted more than anything was to catch a glimpse of the King of Mirkwood. Long had she fancied him. To her, he was the perfect King, the perfect elf. He was beyond handsome with his strong shoulders and chiseled features. He was at times very stern. Still, there was always an underlying softness in his eyes that she found to be most alluring. Thranduil was a great leader and the people loved him, but none more than Alya. He was the reason she sought a future in court politics. To be able to serve in the King’s court was a lifelong dream, but to be able to be close to him was paradise.

She had been watching to see when the King would show, but so far, he had not. She was introduced to a group of fellow messengers and struck up a conversation with them. Each of them had the same goal in mind, to become members of the court and taking a job as a messenger was the first step. As Alya was getting to know her fellow workers better, a feeling came over her that warmed her very core. She felt a pair of eyes on her as if someone in the crowd was watching her closely.

* * * 

As Thranduil’s eyes bore down on her, the elleth turned her attention from her company to turn her head, looking over her shoulder and scanning the crowd. Thranduil never lost contact and hoped she would find him. And she did. Her sight finally fell upon Thranduil and their eyes met. She could do nothing now. He captured her and held her in his blue-eyed gaze. Her smile faded and her lips parted. Eyes as green as the shallow sea looked back at him. Her beauty was stunning, and he wanted her.

Alya saw that it was King Thranduil himself that picked her out of the crowd. He was absolutely breath taking and he was watching her every move. She could not budge, as if she were in a trance. Her body warmed and shivered at the same time under his steely glare. Only in dreams had she ever seen him look at her like this, but this was no dream. The King, the object of her secret desire, was fixed on her and only her.

While she watched, Thranduil let his eyes drop to her breasts, her waist, her legs and then slowly travel back up her body. He could see her gasp across the room from his seductive stare, as he undressed her with his hungry eyes. He set his goblet down and was about to take a step forward to go to her when someone stopped him.

“Sire, your attention is needed. Message comes from the borders. Our soldiers have captured one of the orcs. They think they can get some information from him and want to know if he should be held at the border or brought to the dungeons for further questioning,” said the elf, or the intruder, as Thranduil thought of him at the moment.

The King sighed and looked once more across the crowded room. She was gone of course. He knew she would be as soon as he broke eye contact. Feeling his anger and frustration grow once more, he turned to the waiting elf. “I am on my way,” he said in a tone that said he was not at all pleased.

* * *

The next day, Thranduil sat in his office at his desk. He looked over the different papers before him. His advisors stood behind him ready to explain anything he did not know about, being he was away for so long. He came to a particular parchment that caught his attention and read it.

“Why was this not brought to me first?” Thranduil asked.

Brannor, the advisor standing, to his left bent down and looked over his shoulder. “This is only a request for trade from Lake Town,” he answered.

Thranduil read the request. “They wish to make a trade for ten barrels of wine. That is a hefty amount. I am sure there are things we need. What shape are we in with our supplies? Is there a list?”

Landion, the advisor to his right, searched quickly through some other parchments and finally pulled one out, handing it to Thranduil. He looked over it mumbling to himself, took a quill and ink then wrote on a clean paper. When he was done, he folded it and sealed it in wax. “This should have already been taken care of,” he said in a stern voice while shoving the note to Brannor. “If they agree to everything written on here they may have their wine. Ten barrels, no more, no less,” he said to no one in particular. “Now send for a messenger to deliver this right away.”

“Yes, Sire,” Brannor said, and he hurried towards the door.

“Oh, and send for Lebeth,” Thranduil added before the advisor left.

“Right away, my King.”

It was a well-known fact that Thranduil had certain ellith he would call upon when the mood struck him. He was, after all, the King. And Brannor knew that the King never sent someone else to call upon Lebeth. Thranduil himself called upon her, escorting her from her quarters to his own and vice versa when they were through. However, the King was in rare form lately. Three days he had been back and no elleth was seen coming or going. Now he was sending Brannor to call upon Lebeth. He knew if the King did not get his messenger or his companion soon it would be like opening the gates of Mordor around here. So hurriedly, he walked along headed for Lebeth’s quarters, but there were two tasks to complete. He needed a messenger.

Brannor passed by the library and spotted a friend, Sadron. He desperately waved at him and ran over. “You must help me. The King will have my head if I do not hurry. Would you take it upon yourself to locate and send a messenger to Thranduil’s office? There is a letter of trade that must be sent right away.”

“Of course,” Sadron said. “And where else are you headed to?”

“I must find the King’s mistress Lebeth. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is would you?” Brannor asked.

“No, I have not seen her recently. Maybe she is home.”

“That’s where I am headed now. Never mind that, just get a messenger there before Lebeth and all will be well,” Brannor said and took off once more.

Sadron made his way down the hall looking for anyone that might be a messenger. It seemed messengers were scarce today. And if what Brannor said was true, it seemed the King would be none too pleased if one did not show soon. On he went down the empty corridor until finally he saw someone up ahead.

* * *

Tomorrow was Alya’s duties as court messenger were to begin tomorrow, so she had spent part of her last free day in the bathhouse with friends. Now she was on her way back to her quarters, dressed in only a robe, not a stitch on underneath, when she heard someone coming up behind her. She turned and saw an ellon in such a hurry she thought he was going to run her over. He stopped just short of knocking her to the floor.

“My lady, would you by chance happen to know where I might find a messenger? I am in dire need of one for the court.”

Alya smiled. “Why, it seems you have found one, but actually I don’t start until--.”

“Oh bless me. You have saved my friend’s hide. You must come with me right away. It is urgent that. . .” He paused and looked down. “Where are your clothes, my dear?”

“I was just at the bathing house and. . .”

“Never mind,” Sadron continued. “I know where the employees’ closets are. Surely there should be a uniform in there.”

“Well, if you would just let me retrieve mine from my quarters--.” Again, the desperate elf interrupted Alya.

“There is no time. The King calls for a messenger right away, some important business in Lake Town. He should not be kept waiting long and he is already in a foul mood. Come along unless you do not want to have a job tomorrow.”

Alya’s eyes grew wide. The King, she thought and her heart began to pound in her chest. She did not expect to see him just yet. She hadn’t even officially started her new position and already she was expected to meet King Thranduil, the very handsome King of her dreams who had watched her silently the night before. As Sadron pulled her along the corridor, she started to get flustered. “But. . . I. . . I don’t. . .” she stuttered, unsure of what to say. Suddenly they were standing in front of a door. Sadron turned the handle and they entered.

Sadron led Alya into a small room and pointed to a closet. “You should find what you need in there. Spare uniforms are kept on the left. I do hope the laundry came back already,” he went on. “Now hurry and get off to the King.” He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Alya looked around the room. There was a table and chairs, a small desk with a quill and ink and a very large oak wardrobe. It seemed like a workers room, a place shared by others, maybe for taking breaks and what not. She went to the wardrobe and opened the wooden doors. To her horror, there were no messenger uniforms inside, only dresses. She moved them aside and looked over every square inch. Nothing. Panic set in as she realized the laundry had indeed not been done. She looked through the dresses again. Certainly, she couldn’t show up in one of these, but what choice did she have. Her first assignment and already there were problems. Alya thought about going to her quarters, but it was too far away and she had already wasted enough time. King Thranduil was waiting and he would not appreciate being kept for too long. She either put on one of these dresses or showed up in her robe. “A dress it is,” she said to herself and grabbed the first one, a burgundy gown, floor length, with a low back and a slit up the side that came up mid-thigh. “Who in Middle-earth wears these and why are they here?” she wondered. “I guess I should be thankful.”

* * *

Thranduil paced the floor of his office, Landion nervously waiting by. “Where is everyone?” the King said.

“I’m sure they will be here momentarily, Sire,” Landion answered. Silently he prayed that Lebeth showed first.

“Have I been away so long that my own staff has forgotten how to keep things moving smoothly around here?” Thranduil said, his voice echoing off his office walls.

There was a soft knock on the door. Thranduil stopped pacing and turned to face the door, standing very tall and looking every bit the king. “Enter,” he called.

The door slowly opened and a set of slender fingers wrapped around the edge of it. Thranduil released a breath of relief. His sweet lady Lebeth had finally showed.

Alya opened the door just enough to step through. The sight before her was surely one she would never forget. There stood King Thranduil, the most powerful elven king in Middle-earth. He wore fine leather black boots, dark green wool leggings and a white tunic with a high collar. She immediately thought of all the times she had daydreamed about seeing him in nothing but those leggings, a delicious bulge in them, and her hands caressing him. Quickly, Alya shook the thought from her head and went back to observing him.

Around his shoulders, he wore a beautiful shimmering green cloak made of the finest material. It was edged with a rich tan fur, possibly that of a stag. His hair was the color of ripe wheat, straight and sleek. And upon his head he wore a silver circlet, probably made of mithril. The metal was twisted in the shape of intertwining vines adorned with small star-like jewels, diamonds perhaps. His face was stern, jaw set, and high cheekbones below almond eyes. And oh, his eyes, she thought. They were as blue as the summer sky and at the moment, they bore right into her.

Thranduil eyed the elleth as she stood just inside the doorway. “Your name?” he said.

“I am Alya, Sire. I have come to--” Thranduil held up his hand to stop her. Obviously, she was not used to being in the court. One did not give the King more information than what he asked for.

The moment seemed to last forever when Thranduil finally turned to Landion. “You may go now. I will call for you.”

Worried about the message for Lake Town, Landion started to speak. “My King, the correspondence.”

“You may leave,” Thranduil said rather sternly. Landion knew better than to press on. He bowed, hand over heart and quickly left the office wondering who she was, why Lebeth hadn’t showed yet, and when a messenger would arrive to deliver the trade agreement.

Again, Thranduil’s attention came back to the beauty in front of him. She was still close to the door so he motioned for her to come further into the room, which she did.

By the gods, she was beautiful, he thought as he held her in his stare. He dared not let his eyes roam down her body. She seemed nervous enough as it was and he did not want to scare her off. First, to find out who she was and why his regular lady was not here.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

“You are not who I was expecting,” Thranduil said with a raised eyebrow.

“I am sorry, Sire. I was not supposed to be here until tomorrow, but I was asked to come early,” Alya said, her voice low and wavering. King Thranduil was very intimidating.

Thranduil turned and went to a small table that held a carafe of wine and glasses. Alya watched how his green robe swished behind him and his hair lifted slightly in the breeze as he walked. She swallowed hard and waited, not speaking unless spoken to.

As Thranduil had his back turned to her, pouring the wine, he considered who she was and where he’d seen her. Ah, of course, she was the elleth he had locked eyes with at the celebration the night before. How odd that she was now here. And where was Lebeth? Suddenly a thought came to him. Lebeth was not at the dance last night either. Perhaps something happened, and this beauty was sent instead.

It was a fact that a mistress of the court did not always remain just that. She lived a very private life and only a select few (the King’s advisors) knew of her involvement. Still, she was, by no means, his mate. If by chance she met and fell in love with another, she was free to take that path and some lucky ellon ended up with a very experienced elleth trained by the King. It had happened before but not in a very long time. Thranduil wondered if this happened now. He had been away at the borders for a very long time. Lebeth could have made another life for herself in the meantime. She was not expected to discuss it with the King, but just to carry on without word. However, Lebeth was Thranduil’s favorite by far. No other elleth took care of him the way she did. Lebeth allowed him to relax. She took care of his needs in the most delicious way.

He turned back to Alya, a glass of wine in each hand, and walking back to where she stood. He handed her the glass but she refused. “I would prefer not to, Sire. If I am to be responsible, I would rather it be with a clear head,” she said. She thought it was odd that he would offer her wine right before setting off on her mission to Lake Town.

Her answer confused him slightly, but Thranduil would not accept no for an answer. “Go on my dear. Just a sip. It will relax you. You seem a bit uptight and I would rather that you were comfortable here with me.”

Alya took the glass. The King watched and waited for her to drink. She raised it to her lips and slowly tilted it just until the wine met her mouth. Thranduil watched the same scene play out in front of him. There was something about the way she sipped from a glass that made his blood race.

The wine instantly felt warm as it trickled down Alya’s throat. It was very pleasant, and it began to warm her body instantly. It was not just the wine that affected her now. Thranduil stood close to her. She could smell his masculine scent and it filled her head with thoughts of what he could do to her. It was beyond reckoning as to how she got into this situation, but here she was alone with the one elf she had always secretly desired. She thought she would have been ecstatic, being in this situation, but now she was nervous and fearful. What if he did not approve of her being the new messenger? This could mean the end to her lifelong dream of serving in the court. She had to calm herself and took a few more sips of the sweet wine.

“We have seen each other before have we not?” he said in that smooth voice.

“Yes, Sire, at the dance. I remember well.” How could she not? His eyes upon her felt like two hands feeling their way up and down her body. She remembered it feeling very erratic and improper, but very seductive and libidinous at the same time. Alya knew he hadn’t known who she was or he may not have gazed upon her with such hunger. Still, the King was very handsome, agile, knowledgeable, and powerful. What female in Middle-earth wouldn’t want him looking upon her in such a way? He was the mightiest of all elves and here she stood next to him sharing a glass of wine. Her heart began to pound but she took a deep breath and steadied herself. ‘It’s just the wine,’ she said to herself, and took another sip.

Thranduil took the glass from her when she was done drinking. He set them both down on his desk, which was nearby. Then he turned his eyes towards her once more. She wore a beautiful burgundy gown trimmed in gold thread that matched her long flowing hair. The gown was such that only one shoulder was covered. The other was bare. He imagined kissing the soft flesh of her neck and felt another twinge deep down. It was time to seduce that dress from her and claim his much-awaited prize. His eyes met hers and he started his game.

Alya was captured once more. How did he do this? Every time Thranduil’s eyes met hers, she froze. It could almost be considered fear, but for the fact that she did not want to flee.

“That is a beautiful dress. The color suits you quite well,” he said in a low soothing tone.

“Thank you, Sire. I must apologize though. My usual outfit was unavailable on such short notice,” she answered, and watched as Thranduil slowly stepped towards her. He closed in on her personal space and her first reaction was to back away. Thranduil only closed the distance again, and continued to do so with every step backwards that Alya took. Suddenly, she felt the coldness of stone on her bare back. She had backed into one of the large stone columns, and stilled her movement.

Thranduil stood close, so close that Alya could feel the heat from his body through his heavy garments. His eyes never left hers. They were hypnotic, mesmerizing in fact. Her heart began to race. Oh, he was gorgeous, she thought, but why was he behaving this way with her? Who was she? She was just a messenger and could hardly be called that. He was the King. He should be with some beautiful elleth who knew his likes and dislikes, who would answer to his beck and call.

Now that Thranduil had her where he wanted her, he slowly stepped around her as she stood back against the stone column. He could see her chest heaving in and out as she breathed heavily. He let his finger trace along her arm and felt her shiver slightly. “My dear, if you apologize for this lovely outfit,” he said as he circled behind her. “Then I can only imagine what else you might have worn,” he whispered in her ear, his fingers now tracing her other arm.

Alya stood perfectly still. The feel of Thranduil’s warm breath caressing her ear was almost too much, and his touch made every nerve in her body come alive. She dared not look him in his eyes for fear that she may never find her way back to reality. She knew now without a doubt that the King was trying to seduce her, and was doing a very fine job of it.

Thranduil finished his walk around her and came to stand in front of her again. He noticed how she avoided his gaze and wondered why Lebeth would have sent someone as inexperienced as her. He reached for her chin and turned her head to face him. Their eyes met and Alya gasped.

“My . . . my King,” she stuttered. “Is this how you greet all the new messengers?” she finally managed to say.

Thranduil did not move or drop his stare. He let this information sink in first. She is a messenger? It could not be, not with the way she was dressed, the way she smelled, and she made him feel so alive. However, Thranduil remained unmoved and showed no surprise. “Only the beautiful ones,” he answered. She may have been a messenger, but it was evident the affect he had on her. Not wanting the moment to end, he went along with it. “Perhaps my lady would care for a little more wine?” he asked picking up her glass again.

“Oh no, I do not think I should,” Alya said nervously.

“It is alright. I think this message has lost some of its urgency. It can wait a little while longer, perhaps until tomorrow.” He offered her the glass and would not remove it until she took it.

“Thank you, my King,” she said, accepting the glass.

“Perhaps a toast is in order,” he said lifting his glass. Alya smiled nervously and did the same. “To your new career as . . .” Here he paused and bore his eyes on her again. “. . . messenger.” He raised one eyebrow as he said it almost questioningly. They clinked glasses and sipped only once before Thranduil took the wine from her, setting them down once more.

“Well now, since it seems there is no more urgency to deliver this note, you will not mind if I ask you to stay a while longer,” he said, his finger reaching out and caressing a tendril of her golden hair. As he released it, his hand slightly grazed her bare shoulder.

Again, his touch warmed Alya. “I will gladly stay until you see fit to send me on my way, my King.” She could hardly control her breathing now. She no longer cared whether she still had a job or not. Now it was just her and her secret crush. She would do anything he asked of her. This may be her only chance ever to be in this position again. The King of Mirkwood was with her right now and only her. She was clay in his hands ready to be molded into whatever he desired. She gave into her feelings both inside and out.

“Good,” Thranduil said quite pleased. “And being you were prepared to go on this mission, I will assume you had no other plans?”

“No Sire, I have made no plans at all.” Alya could hardly believe it was she that spoke. Her blood coursed through her body as Thranduil stood in front of her where she was still pinned to the pillar.

Thranduil smiled and his eyes softened a bit. “You are very beautiful for a messenger. How is it you came to be in this profession?”

“It is merely a stepping stone. I hope to become a member of your court someday,” she answered.

“Ah the court, now that is a better suited career for one of such beauty and grace.” His hand roamed down her arm and came to rest at her waist. He could not help himself. He loved the feel of her. “Perhaps we can see where it is you might be needed most my lady.” His voice was melodic as he said this into her ear.

Alya closed her eyes, parted her lips and breathed deep when his warm breath swept across her ear. “Yes, my King,” she said in an airy voice, now completely given over to his seduction.

“The first thing I will have you do is to call me by my name. When we are alone we are equals and I will have you address me as thus.” His hand traveled along her belly.

“Alright . . . Thranduil.” Alya whispered. His name tasted sweet on her tongue as it flowed past her lips.

His body sprang to life at the sound of his name. Being the king, he was rarely addressed as such. It was just a simple request, but one that sounded so pleasant coming from her mouth. “Now let’s see, maybe a future as an advisor would suit you. Do you have any advice for me now?” He held a hand at each side of her waist.

“Advice? I’m not sure I understand your request,” she said.

“For instance, let us say I am not pleasing you. What would you have me do?” Thranduil loved playing this game. Sometimes it was nice to have the elleth direct him to her most pleasurable spots instead of trying to guess her delights.

“I would have you lower your hands,” she said and Thranduil’s hands traveled down her hips to her thighs.

“Ah, so you like to get right to the point,” he teased, and his hand found the slit in her dress. He slipped it inside and now caressed the bare skin of her thigh. He felt her hips jolt ever so slightly as he ran long fingers up her hip to find she wore nothing underneath the dress. He lowered his face to her neck and whispered. “I see you have come prepared.” Then he laid delicate kisses upon her neck.

Alya felt herself moisten as he kissed her delicate skin and touched her sides. Now she understood the reason for the slit in the dress. ‘Easy access,’ she said to herself and laughed.

Thranduil brought his hands back to her thighs and moved to the inside. He nudged them apart and she complied. Already, heat enveloped her body and he knew what he would find at her juncture. What he did not expect was for her to lift her leg and wrap it around his waist. He hummed a low growl in her ear and nibbled on her lobe. “Very nice,” he said, and let his hand explore what she offered. She was sensitive to his touch, and gyrating slightly with every new sensation. His fingers spread her moist folds and caressed her.

Alya gasped and released a moan she had been holding back. He touched her in every place that she loved, but she wanted more. She could tell that Thranduil did not want to be in total control. Of course, he would want something different in intimacy. All day he was giving orders. Now it seemed he wanted to receive them as well. After he touched and circled her center to the point that she ached she said, “I need to feel you inside me. Please, Thranduil.”

The King smiled to himself. This elleth was reading him like an open book. She understood him quite well already and saw his need to be commanded from time to time, but he also liked to regain that control when she least expected it. He came back to look into her eyes while still circling her, spreading her moisture. “Like this?” he said. He captured her lips and kissed her for the first time while sliding a long slender finger into her body. Alya moaned against his mouth as he worked his magic on her. Deeper he went until he felt her inner muscles begin to convulse. His thumb replaced the finger now buried deep within her, caressing her clit.

Alya was beyond ecstasy. She had wanted him so badly before he ever touched her and now her body was singing to his ministrations. She reached behind her; hands firmly planted on each side of the large tree shaped pillar and thrust her hips forward. Her leg was still wrapped around his waist and her head tilted back allowing him to lick and suck her neck.

Thranduil could feel her want for more and inserted a second finger moving within her and making her moans become higher in pitch. He thrust up into her as her hips came forward. The skirt of her burgundy dress hiked up so that her lower body was exposed. Thranduil’s cock was hard and pulsing. He wanted badly to sink into her, but he would have his turn next. Right now, she was his only concern. He knew from the feel of her convulsing muscles, she would not last much longer. He buried his face into her neck once more while he moved his fingers in and out of her wetness.

Alya was so close to completion. He was good at keeping her on the edge of her climax. He would not let her fall over the edge until he wanted her to. She was aching, needing to fulfill her journey into passion, but he would not let her go yet. “Please, finish me,” she begged.

“Say my name,” he demanded.

“Oh Thranduil,” she whispered and he brought her a little closer.

“Say it again,” he said and moved deeper.

“Thranduil,” she said a little louder. “Thranduil, yes Thranduil.”

Finally, he moved within her and brought her the pleasure she was seeking. He was rewarded with the most delicious voice screaming his name over and over and it sounded so good to his royal ears. Alya climaxed and released her slickness. Thranduil relished the feel. He would not wait any longer. He released her but held onto her raised leg. Alya let go of the pillar and brought her arms around his neck. They kissed with such fire as tongues caressed each other. Then he reached for her other thigh and lifted her, now holding her as her legs wrapped around his waist.

“I want you, now!” he demanded and carried her to his desk. “Lift your dress.”

She was still in a sated state but obeyed his command. Then he sat her down at the edge of the desk. Alya released her hold on his neck and came to look at him. Already he had thrown the cloak to the ground. His eyes once again scanned her body, this time knowing he would soon be buried within her. She watched in amazement as her fantasy came to life. Thranduil unhooked his tunic and shrugged it from his shoulders. Now he stood there in nothing but his leggings and her eyes grew wide at the immense bulge within them. Thranduil watched her reaction and noticed the surprise and hunger in her expression. He smiled to himself and moved closer to her.

“Would you mind?” he said gesturing for her to unlace the leather strands that held his straining cock quite uncomfortably within the tight leggings.

Alya licked her lips and started right away. She was no longer nervous and her fingers moved with ease as she unlaced him. She peeled the material down and unwrapped her bounty. Thranduil was hard as a rock and stood at attention. Slowly she took him in her hand, stroking him along his length with Thranduil watching her every move.

He cradled her face in his hands and bent down towards her. “By the gods you are so beautiful, Alya,” he whispered, and grazed her lips with his own. He slowly pressed his mouth onto hers, separating her lips with his tongue and searching for access to her sweet mouth. He felt her hands leave his arousal and move to his taught muscular rear.

Alya pulled him to her, digging her fingers into his flesh. Their kisses became hungrier. Thranduil pulled her hips closer to the edge of his desk. Her legs surrounded him. His hardened length was exposed to her moist heat. He rubbed himself over her center, slicking his hardness. Alya put her arms out behind her, hands on his desk and leaning back slightly. Thranduil leaned into her, kissing the tops her breasts still covered by the dress. He reached in and worked one breast out, took it into his mouth and sucked on her rosy nipple. She threw her head back, her long hair sweeping across signed papers. Thranduil assaulted her neck, biting and nipping her delicious flesh. Then he stood back up, adjusted his position, took his cock in his hand and guided it into her writhing body. He moaned as he eased himself in her warmth. Alya moaned and lifted her head to watch his face. His eyes were closed and lips parted as he set his rhythm. Still leaning back on her hands, she brought herself up a little more and watched the King pound into her body. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her to him and reaching deeper within her body. Thranduil’s own hips were thrusting towards her, filling her with every thrust. She writhed uncontrollably now, feeling her climax approach once more. Thranduil was close too, and opened his eyes to watch her reaction when he thrust deep and hard, feeling her body caress his own. She was moaning loudly, head thrown back again and a smile on her face.

This was Thranduil. This was her fantasy. This was really happening, and it was exquisite. “Yes Thranduil yes!” Alya yelled and she came like never before. It was the most delicious feeling, having him inside her, holding her, and pounding into her. She looked up as she heard him groan with pleasure. Thranduil held himself deep inside her now. His cock pulsated as his seed spilled. He threw his head back, his long golden hair sweeping down a muscular back. He stayed this way until he was spent of his essence, then came back to look at the beauty he held in his hands. It was only now that he realized he had lifted her from the desk. Her hands were the only thing that made contact with it. Sweat beaded on her skin as well as his. He lowered her back to the desk and leaned towards her, still buried and relishing the feel of her slick heat. Their breathing slowed as they kissed slow and steady. Eventually, Thranduil pulled from her and helped her to sit up.

Alya looked at Thranduil for a moment, almost afraid to touch him. Was he through with her? Would he expect her to leave? Would she be asked never to return? All these thoughts ran through her mind. They had joined in the heat of the moment. She did not expect anything like this to ever happen to her and was now worried what would happen next.

Thranduil felt her reserve and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her passionately then came to look into her eyes. “What is wrong, love?” he asked concerned.

Alya looked away from him. “I am no fool. I know this is not a normal situation, and I am worried I have jeopardized any chance of becoming involved with the court.”

Thranduil took her chin in his fingers and forced her to look at him. “You, my dear, have nothing to worry about, but a position as a messenger is beneath your talents. You have made me feel something I have not felt in a long time. You have made me feel normal, not as a king, or a leader, but free to be myself. That is a talent I have not seen in a very long time. Alya, I offer you a place in my palace and a place at my side. I thought I had found what I was looking for, but you made me realize that I have not. You have made me feel more alive than I have in a millennia. Let me take care of you.”

Alya smiled. It was a generous offer and one that not many would pass up. “Thranduil, you are amazing, and this should be like a dream come true. However, I do not want to be just another lady of the court. I long for a life in court politics.”

“And you can have that,” he said, kissing her.

“I must do it on my own,” she said softly, while tucking his hair behind his ear. She felt his hope diminish slightly as she turned down his offer. All these years she held him high on a pedestal. Never did she think her dream of being with the King would ever come true, and never did she think he was so pragmatic. Could she really walk away from this? Would it really be that bad to live a life within the palace as Thranduil’s mistress? “Maybe. . .” she started but stopped herself.

Thranduil cocked his head, looking at her with question. “You are unlike any elleth I have known. You would turn down my offer and continue to seek a court position?” he questioned.

“It is my passion. It is what I want most.” Then her eyes grazed along his muscled chest and she smiled impishly. “Well, almost,” she teased.

Thranduil laughed. “You can still have this. I promise not to interfere. I only ask that you visit me from time to time, accompany me to a dance every now and again, spend an evening with me, here in my quarters when we see fit.”

“And you will be honest with me? You will not just advance me because I am your mistress?” she asked. Were they bargaining?

“I will have no say in the matter. I will not even recommend you. It will be completely out of my hands. This I promise,” he said. “Besides, there is only one thing I want in my hands,” he jested and captured her breast. “The decision is yours to make. I will not beg, but I will tell you that I do not want this to end just yet. As mistress, you are free to leave anytime. That is the one rule. Should the time come, you are free to leave the palace, no questions and no explanations.”

Alya looked at him long, searching his face for any sign that she should not do this, but all she saw was his compassion. Her fantasy had become reality and it was better than she could ever imagine. Thranduil wanted her and not just for an evening of delights. He wanted her with him and not just in secret. And she wanted him too. A smile slowly spread across her lips. “I accept,” she finally said.

“Good,” he replied simply, and then ravished the soft flesh of her breast that he still held in his hand. “But you will not be my messenger,” he said more stern.

“No?” she said raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“No. First of all, you were late. Secondly, you were not dressed in proper attire. And last . . .” Here he paused and kissed her wantonly, letting his fingers travel down to her slicked center. “You are too easily distracted.”

Alya laughed and then gasped as he very easily slid his ever-hardening cock back into her warmth. She moaned at the sudden surprise of being filled by him. “You see? You cannot keep focused,” he laughed softly before pumping into her once again and bringing her even more pleasure than the first time.

* * *

As for Lebeth, Thranduil’s assumptions were correct. In the King’s absence, she did indeed meet and fall in love with a wonderful ellon who would make every one of her dreams come true. However, after being the King’s mistress for so many years, she would always carry a small torch for Thranduil, and she would not think of leaving him with nothing. Let us just say, Lebeth knew about the missing uniforms, the laundry schedule, and personally placed the burgundy gown in the closet. She considered it her parting gift for her beloved King of Mirkwood.

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have read this, please send feedback. It is an authors only reward. Thank you for reading.


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